


From The Outside

by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-11-07 09:22:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/peanutbutterjelly-pie
Summary: -It's more than obvious that Bianca – or any person in this bar, hell,on this freaking planet– never stood a chance. Dean is a lost case.And he seems to be rather happy about it.It showsspectacularlyjust a moment later when his face suddenly lights up as though something – or, more likely, someone – turned a switch. Bianca frowns, confused for a second, before following Dean's line of sight and setting eyes on the person just entering the bar.Messy sex hair, the bluest eyes Bianca has ever seen, rumpled clothes, a trench coat at least two sizes too big – and definitelya man.Yeah, Bianca never had a chance.*  *  *  *  *  *  *(Compilation of ficlets about Dean and Castiel's relationship from several outsider points of view.)-





	1. Bianca

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bianca simply wants to have a good time with the green-eyed guy who just walked into the bar. Little does she know that it's a futile endeavor.
> 
> -

Bianca notices the green-eyed guy as soon as he enters the bar.

She watches intensively how he looks around, scanning the room with a scrutiny you don't find very often, and finally approaches the counter, his steps determined as if he's on some kind of mission.

Bianca's interest perks up instantly. She actually just came to this place to enjoy the surprisingly good beer and hang out with her work colleagues to bitch about their new supervisor, but she wasn't averse to make this night extra special.

And it's been a while since she allowed herself some treat.

So she immediately gets into motion because the guy is hot and sexy and the better part of the female (and a few male) patrons are already eyeing him up, probably considering whether they should take a shot or not. And Bianca is not in the mood to miss her chance.

At close range the man is even more gorgeous than from the other side of the room and Bianca inwardly high-fives herself while appreciating the beauty right in front of her. Freckles, long eyelashes, chiseled jaw, light stubble – just _perfect_!

“I'd ask you if I could buy you a drink, but I see you're already covered,” she just jumps in without much preamble, pointing at the beer bottle in the guy's hand and smiling brightly.

The stranger turns around, stiffening a bit, and blinks a few times as though he's completely unprepared for the concept of someone speaking to him at a place like this.

“Um …” he says, obviously not certain what the appropriate response would be.

She chuckles, relishing the look on his face. “I'm Bianca,” she introduces herself. “Nice to meet you.”

A tentative smile tugs at the corners of the guy's mouth. “I'm Dean.”

His voice is ridiculously deep and makes Bianca picture some very naughty things in her mind.

“Pleasure,” she answers, winking mischievously while really hoping he will give her _right that_ sometime soon. “I'm always happy to get to know new people.”

She leans a little closer. She's trying not to come on to strong since that occasionally backfired in the past and she honestly doesn't want to chase Dean off, but it's quite a challenge to keep some reasonable distance between them.

“So … do you have any plans for tonight?” Bianca asks, attempting a flirty smirk that hopefully doesn't look as stupid as it feels. “Because I'd have some suggestions otherwise.”

Yes, does she have some _suggestions_.

However, her hopes are crushed instantly when Dean tells her, “Actually … I'm waiting for someone.”

He sounds a bit hesitant, as if he can't really believe it himself, but there are some strong emotions flickering across his face within a split second and Bianca knows straightaway that she is witnessing something vastly deep and meaningful.

Dammit.

Nonetheless she finds herself asking, “A date?”

There is still a possibility he's meeting up with his long-lost sister after ten years of no contact or an old high school friend he missed rather dearly since graduation or something like that.

But once again Dean disappoints by saying, “Yeah, it is.”

Bianca suppresses a sigh because she's a polite person and she wouldn't pout into a guy's face for waiting for his dream woman to turn up and rock his world.

“That's nice,” she says instead. “And you chose this place as your venue?”

She raises his brows skeptically and lets her gaze rove over the room. It isn't exactly a dump – she wouldn't be here otherwise –, but it's far from date material and Bianca already starts to feel sorry for that poor girl before Dean shakes his head vehemently.

“No, of course not.” He snorts. “We're just meeting here. I might not be overly classy, but I still have some standards and that's really not the place for a first date. Or any date at all. Cas deserves way more than this.”

And then Dean blushes as if he revealed far too much about himself and Bianca can't help being charmed by it. He looks far too endearing to be actually true.

That Cas is quite lucky.

“Well, then I'm really sorry for interrupting your night –”

“Don't be,” Dean cuts in, smiling. “I'm actually really flattered. Usually I would have bought you a drink _immediately_. It's just …”

“Now there is Cas,” Bianca summarizes.

Dean's whole demeanor gentles. “Yeah,” he breaths. “Now there is Cas.”

It's more than obvious that Bianca – or any person in this bar, hell, on this _freaking planet_ – never stood a chance. The guy is a lost case.

And he seems to be rather happy about it.

It shows _spectacularly_ just a moment later when his face suddenly lights up as though something – or, more likely, someone – turned a switch. Bianca frowns, confused for a second, before following Dean's line of sight and setting eyes on the person just entering the bar.

Messy sex hair, the bluest eyes Bianca has ever seen, rumpled clothes, a trench coat at least two sizes too big – and definitely a _man_.

Yeah, Bianca never had a chance.

“Dean, I'm very sorry for being late.” The guy's goddamned voice is truly impossible, so gravelly it sends shivers down Bianca's spine. “I hope you didn't have to wait too long.”

Dean chuckles. Every sign of nervousness he showed before is now vanished like it never existed in the first place. “Cas, you're ten minutes earlier than you said you would be.”

Cas looks rather bewildered confronted with that information. “Really?” He glances at the clock on the wall, looking like a confused puppy puzzled by the world. “I didn't realize. The human concept of time can be rather strange sometimes.”

Dean is still laughing quietly, his eyes gleaming so freaking fondly Bianca can't help feeling envy. She can't remember anyone ever looking at her that way before – so full of affection and love and _forever_ – and it's so fucking beautiful and fiercely painful all at once. Her chest tightens and for a few moments it seriously takes her breath away to be in the presence of something so powerful.

Dean gravitates toward Cas like it's second nature, never once averting his gaze or even blinking, and in no time at all they're standing ridiculously close to each other.

“Let's get out of here, Cas!”

Cas beams as if these are the words he waited all his life to hear, looking almost supernatural in his apparent happiness. He grabs Dean's hand and gently tugs him to the exit while obviously enjoying the blush on Dean's cheeks at the same time.

Right before they leave the bar, however, Dean seems to suddenly recall Bianca's existence, shoots a quick glance over his shoulders and calls, “Bye, Bianca!” before disappearing through the door.

She heaves a deep sigh and stays frozen at the spot for a while, just staring at the exit and wondering whether someday she would find something as wonderful as these two men have with each other.

They're a pair of very fortunate bastards.

“No luck with the hot guy?” Megan, one of her colleagues, asks as soon as Bianca finally returns to their small group.

Bianca shrugs. “He's taken,” she explains, dropping onto her seat. “Stupidly in love, so it seems.”

Megan pulls the corners of her lips downward, appearing all sympathetic. “Shame.”

Bianca shakes her head. “Actually, no,” she disagrees, smiling slightly. “Lucky him.”

Lucky him indeed.

 


	2. Lauren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lauren's newest customer is eager to do something nice for his boyfriend.
> 
> -

Lauren loves her job.

She's always been fascinated by the different kinds of flowers and plants, visiting the beautiful flower shop of Mrs. Jane around the corner since the day she was able to walk on her two chubby legs. She spent a major part of her childhood at the large greenhouse in the back, learning about everything there was to know about the countless types of green. She was like a sponge, absorbing every little piece of information.

And when Mrs. Jane offered her a job at her shop – at first a few hours a week, but after the girl's graduation a more permanent arrangement – Lauren took the opportunity with a smile so big the angels in Heaven probably didn't miss it.

Yes, she honestly loves her job.

And it's not only the flowers she's obsessed with but the different kinds of people as well. Each customer has a story, a background, a reason why they're finding their way into Mrs. Jane's shop.

There is the elderly woman who likes to see some color in her garden. And there is the young man that sends a beautiful bouquet to his wife's work place every Monday morning, going on for months now. And then there is the exhausted mother of four children who obviously finds some peace and quiet just sitting next to the little fountain in the middle of the shop and watching the flowers around her.

All very different people.

And the man who is approaching the counter now looks like a special case too. He seems more like a guy you find at the hardware store – plaid, a washed-out jeans, an old Led Zeppelin shirt –, but he appears rather determined when he stops in front of Lauren, so he obviously didn't just lose his way and walked through the wrong door.

“Hi,” he greets Lauren with a nice smile, his green eyes glinting in a way that's almost hypnotic.

“Welcome,” she answers politely. “How can I help you?”

The man lets his gaze roam over the large room, searching for something Lauren isn't sure what yet. “Um … I've gotta confess I've got no real clue about the whole … well, plant thing,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck as if he's ashamed of that fact. “I just walked by and …”

He trails off, apparently unsure how to proceed.

Lauren finds herself smiling. He's seriously not the first customer who came in here without a real idea what they even wanted for themselves or for someone they loved.

“It's … it's actually for my boyfriend,” the man adds, flushing adorably as though he's not used to that term yet. “He said recently that it'd be nice if we'd have a garden in our, uh, backyard. I mean, right now there is only grass and nothing else, you know. Not much to work with.”

Lauren leans a bit closer. “So you were thinking about starting a garden?”

The man's eyes brighten a little, like he actually believed Lauren would laugh off his suggestion or something and can't help being relieved that this isn't the case.

“Cas loves all this stuff,” he continues, the fondness in his voice more than noticeable. “Y'know, digging into dirt, caring for some pretty flowers and perhaps even a small herb garden. Just …”

He shrugs and simply smiles, obviously thinking that his smitten expression would tell the rest of the story by itself.

“I want it to be a surprise,” the man continues. “I mean, my brother and he are gonna visit some exhibition at the other end of the country next week because they're both the hugest nerds in existence and they love that old stuff …” He rolls his eyes affectionately. “And that gives me a few days to – well, to surprise Cas, I guess.”

It takes a lot of effort to not coo in the guy's face since this is one of the sweetest things Lauren ever heard. This man obviously has no freaking clue how to even begin this project, but he's so utterly in love with his boyfriend that he's keen to bite the bullet and do it anyway.

“And Cas likes bees,” the guy adds as an afterthought, his cheeks tinged a little bit red. “Maybe … maybe we could consider that too.”

Lauren grins widely. “Well, your boyfriend is a very lucky man!” she says. “And I'd _love_ to help you. I've got some recommendations that –”

But before she's even able to continue any further and underline her excitement rather enthusiastically (because she enjoys big projects like this one very much), the front door suddenly opens and a man with a messy bird's nest on his head peeks inside.

“Dean?” he asks confused, his gaze trained on the guy in front of Lauren.

“Cas!” the man – Dean – exclaims loudly, looking like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He turns around and smiles awkwardly at this beautiful stranger with the most otherworldly blue eyes on earth – who is obviously the mentioned boyfriend.

_Damn_ , no wonder Dean wants to build a whole garden for this man from the ground, only because he mentioned once that it might be nice. Lauren would have done the same in a heartbeat.

Without any hesitation.

“What are you doing here, man?” Dean wonders, stepping back from the counter. “I thought you wanted to go to the pet store after the library.”

Apparently Dean counted on Cas being so distracted by the puppies that he would have had all the time in the world to talk with Lauren about his plan in great detail.

“It's closed,” Cas informs him. “I think a pipe burst at some point this morning.” He squints his eyes and studies Dean intensely. “And what are _you_ doing _here_?”

“Uh …” Dean starts to fidget. He doesn't seem to be prepared to come up with some believable excuse for his presence in a flower shop of all things.

And Lauren can't see him suffer.

“It's my fault,” she pipes in, making Cas glance at her directly for the first time. “He just wanted to use the bathroom and when he came back, I noticed the Zeppelin shirt and we got to talk. Sorry for keeping him back.”

She smiles sheepishly, knowing fairly well that it'll be convincing enough. Dean throws a look over his shoulder and mouths _thank you_ to her.

In the meantime, Cas' features gentled. “No need to apologize. I'm quite aware that Dean is capable of talking about his favorite bands for hours.” He takes a step inside. “You have a beautiful shop, by the way.”

His whole face brightens while watching the overwhelming amount of green around him and Lauren can't help picturing him being more than grateful for the things his boyfriend has planned for their backyard. He's gonna be thrilled, that's for sure.

And Lauren can't wait to help Dean with that.

“Well, thanks for the good talk,” Dean says, clearing his throat. “Always love chatting about Zeppelin.”

He winks and mouths _I will be back_ , making sure that Cas is unable to witness their brief interaction.

“You're welcome,” she answers, “I hope I'll see you soon.”

She smiles as Dean takes Cas' hand like it's the most natural thing in the world, squeezes it tightly and whispers something into Cas' ear that makes the other man blush in the most endearing way ever. Dean seems quite proud of his accomplishment when he presses a quick kiss on his boyfriend's temple and finally turns around once more to yell, “See you soon!”

And true to his words Dean is standing right in front of Lauren less than twenty-four hours later.

With big plans for the future with the man he loves.

 


	3. David

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David witnesses a quite unexpected scene at the grocery store.
> 
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your nice feedback <33 It's food for my soul, honestly!!
> 
> _

David heaves a deep sigh while studying the long shelves of different brands of cereal right in front of him.

His wife told him specifically which one to get – _“The white one with the red stripes and the camel on it, David!”_ –, so their three-year-old son wouldn't throw another temper tantrum at 7 a.m. because his parents didn't provide him with the things he desired so much. And though David was strongly in favor of not letting kids get away with everything, he just couldn't deal with a sobbing child in the morning without developing a mean headache that would last throughout the whole day.

So yeah, the cereal was a definitive must have.

And David figured it would be easy enough to swing by at the grocery store after work and buy at least ten packages to avoid any more meltdowns at the breakfast table, but he didn't anticipate the _thousands_ of cartoons animals staring back at him from their colorful boxes, mocking him in his incapability to tell them apart.

They seriously all look like deformed camels to him, _dammit_.

He was on the brink of calling Wendy and admitting defeat when he heard a deep voice groan, “C'mon, Cas, it can't be that hard!”

“It's a very important decision, Dean!” another voice, ridiculously gravelly, responds.

“It's freaking _cream cheese_ , man!”

David throws a look over his shoulder and notices two men a little bit further down the aislestanding at the refrigerated shelf. The one with the dirty blond hair and the stance of a soldier ready to fight is holding an already quite loaded shopping cart in his grip and watches the other guy in the trench coat with clear annoyance on his face.

“Just pick one and have it over with!” he grumbles.

“Dean –” the other man, obviously the one called Cas, answers.

“We've been here for _hours_!” Dean cuts in. Most likely an exaggeration because nobody spends hours in a supermarket unless they're working there, but David can totally relate to the feeling. “Just pick the one with the smiling chick on the box and let's go!”

“That's the one we had last time,” Cas says with a weird undertone. David knows that one way too well – his wife always uses it when she disapproves of something.

Dean, however, doesn't seem to pick up on it. “So? Didn't you like it?”

“I enjoyed it just fine –”

“See? Problem solved!” Dean huffs. “Then let's go to the register before I die of old age.”

Cas ignores his friend/roommate/relative/whatever and keeps on scanning the different cream cheeses with a scrutiny that's almost terrifying.

“I'll leave you here, if you don't hurry up!” Dean threatens, but even David can hear that it's hollow. The guy looks like he wouldn't go anywhere with Cas, no matter the level of his annoyance.

“You won't,” Cas realizes as well, not even bothering to raise his gaze for a second. “After all we've been through you wouldn't leave me in a grocery store.”

Dean starts to squirm as if he's been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “What's so wrong with that cream cheese then?”

“It didn't sit very well with Sam.”

Dean blinks, obviously surprised by that answer. “What?”

“He got a nasty stomachache after eating that cheese,” Cas continues. “You probably remember him being unwell about a week ago, right?”

Dean seems uncomfortable all of sudden, a guilty expression flickering over his features. “... Uh, yeah.”

“Well, it didn't take long for me to realize that obviously something in that cream cheese I purchased didn't go well with Sam's system,” Cas explains while at the same time reading a small printed ingredient's list like it's just child play. “So I'm very determined to make it right this time.”

Dean seems to deflate. “It's really not your fault, Cas.”

His voice is suddenly almost unbearably soft and David can't help wondering in what relation they're standing to each other. There is clearly something in Dean's eyes that proves them more than just friends who like to go shopping together.

“You couldn't have known,” Dean continues gently. “Hell, one time I fed Sam some chicken that gave him food poisoning so bad we had to take him to the hospital. It happens, Cas. It's not like you did anything on purpose here.”

He steps forward, placing his hand reassuringly on Cas' back and smiling warmly before pressing a quick kiss on Cas' temple.

 _Okay, not just friends,_ David can't keep himself from thinking.

At least he has never before been that affectionate with his buddies. With his wife, on the other hand …

“No one blames you,” Dean assures once again. “Least of all Sam.”

Cas sighs. “I'm aware of that,” he confesses. “I just … I just care about Sam and his well-being.”

Dean suddenly seems like a whole different person, all warm and pliant. “I know that you care about Sam,” he says. “I know that you care about me and about almost everybody else. That's one of the reasons why I love you.”

And then he freezes.

It's more than obvious that he didn't mean to say this out loud, appearing all horrified by himself and his rash mouth. And you seriously don't need to be a mind reader to realize that they never vocalized those three little words ever before. At least David recognizes the shock in Dean's face way too well.

After all, David confessed his undying love to his wife for the very first time while simultaneously fixing her clogged toilet.

Good times.

Cas, in the meantime, totally forgets about the cream cheese and stares at Dean with an intensity you could almost call supernatural. As if he were looking right into the guy's soul, studying even the tiniest facet. David could even have sworn the man's eyes glowed for a split second there.

Dean starts to fidget awkwardly. “Um …”

Cas doesn't deem this with any kind of answer. Instead he surges forward, basically throws himself into Dean's arms and goes in for a heated kiss.

And Dean responds enthusiastically after he overcomes the first few seconds of surprise, smiling widely when Cas breaths, “I love you too!” against his lips.

David finds himself blushing all of a sudden, feeling like a creeper watching a very intimate scene, and hastily turns around. He's got no right whatsoever to spy or even intrude on their special moment and he quickly grabs the closest cereal box and gets the hell out of there.

And he promises himself that, as soon as he'll get home, he will grab his wife and tell her how much he loves her.

 

* * * * *

 

(And though Wendy appreciates his sweet gesture in the end, she still reacts super pissed that she married an utter fool who is incapable of buying the right cereal.)

 


	4. Dwight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dwight just wants to celebrate a successful hunt, but he gets way more than he bargained for.
> 
> _

Dwight always loved to celebrate a hunt gone right with a cold beer, a greasy cheeseburger and maybe some nice company in his bed afterwards.

And tonight's hunt had been _very_ successful, there is no denying that. He can't recall the last time something went so freaking smoothly.

It's almost scary.

But at the same time it's not exactly surprising. He heard a lot of rumors about the infamous Winchesters and when Dwight met the oldest brother and his friend a few days back, all of them realizing quite soon that they were investigating the same case and deciding to join forces right after, the hunter just knew that it would be one hell of a ride.

And his prediction turned out to be quite right.

Both Dean and his buddy Castiel simply knew what they were doing. They didn't take long to find out that they were dealing with a wendigo, hiding deep within the woods. For real, they merely glanced at a few records and announced, “Wendigo!” at the same time, like there was some invisible bond between them, making them think the same way.

On the actual hunt they acted like a well oiled machine. They found tracks Dwight would most likely have taken days to discover, drew weapons out of their belts and pockets the hunter had never seen before and started to communicate with little eye twitches and some hand gestures, apparently telling each other everything they needed to know.

Dwight felt rather dispensable the whole time, but also vastly thrilled to be able to accompany a Winchester in such a manner.

And that sensation only intensified when that murderous bastard wendigo was suddenly dead just a few seconds later, stabbed by Dean and Castiel in one swift motion, those mysterious weapons of theirs obviously burning the monster from the inside out. And Dwight almost missed the whole thing by making the mistake of blinking his eyes.

_Shit_ , that was fast!

“You guys are _amazing_!” he can't help raving about after he dragged the two hunters to the next bar and immediately ordered alcohol and burgers to make this night extra special. “I mean, _really_! All I could do was watch you guys being badass.”

Dean smirks and takes a gulp of his beer. “Well, someone has to tell the stories, right?”

And though he's joking and appears all cheerful and relaxed, Dwight can tell that Dean is a bit uncomfortable faced with that kind of praise. It seems that he isn't exactly used to random hunters swooning over him.

Castiel, on the other hand, simply squints his eyes, like he isn't really sure how to assess the situation. In the end he settles on enjoying his cheeseburger and keeping silent.

Dwight finds himself grinning. They really are an odd pair.

However, in his experience, the best teams are always those that don't seem to fit at first sight, but are so much deeper as soon as you risk to take a closer look. The things that are hidden beneath the outer appearance and the attitude – _that's_ what is important.

And the same goes for Dean and Castiel. Granted, Dwight knows them for about a day and a half, but he has always been a good judge of character and it doesn't take a genius to realize that those two are connected in a way which doesn't seem obvious at first, though it's really fucking meaningful.

He can't help feeling a little bit envious.

“And it's not like you were a waste of space,” Dean continues, nudging Dwight's shoulder. “You did all the groundwork. _And_ you're buying us booze.”

Dwight barks a laugh. “Well, I guess you're not wrong. It a very important part of being a hunter.”

“The _most_ important,” Dean agrees, a playful glint in his eyes.

Dwight cocks his head. “Well, maybe not the _most_ important,” he disagrees, glimpsing at the blonde woman sitting at the counter who had been eyeing them since the moment they walked into the bar.

Dean follows his gaze and starts to grin. “I get your point,” he says appreciatively. “Go for it, buddy. We don't mind.”

Dwight sighs. He would have loved to since that woman is simply pure perfection and all his nerve cells are buzzing just by watching her, but the way her eyes are fixed solely on Dean makes it painfully clear that Dwight wouldn't stand a chance. He appears like a gray mouse next to the tall and handsome hunter.

So yeah, he can't exactly blame the girl.

“No way.” Dwight snorts. “That chick wants a piece of _you_.”

Dean blinks, like he's actually surprised something like that might happen. “Oh.”

“You should go for it,” Dwight urges, not at all feeling bad or even jealous for helping a hunter friend out. Dean more than anyone deserves some fun. “I mean, that chick is hot and obviously really _thirsty_. You should go, have a good time. Cas and I wouldn't mind, right?”

He feels very comfortable with his mature reaction, but when he turns toward Castiel he suddenly realizes that he's been dead wrong somewhere along the way.

“Actually _I_ would mind,” Castiel counters, his voice stormy and even more gravelly than before. Dwight finds himself leaning back a bit, bringing some distance between them.

“Uh, you would?” he asks, dumbfounded.

Castiel nods with a serious expression on his face. “Dean is engaged.”

And … wow.

Okay, Dwight honestly didn't see that coming. “He is?”

Dean, however, appears even more bewildered than the hunter. “I am?”

Very weird reaction, Dwight's gotta admit.

It's not like you can forget such a thing easily.

“You are,” Castiel agrees with emphasis while he still side-eyes Dwight, apparently quite unhappy about the hunter's suggestion to go for the girl.

Dean merely blinks, a mixture of confusion and disbelief on his features. “Well, I can't remember saying yes to _anyone's_ proposal recently,” he contradicts. “Or getting proposed to, to begin with.”

Castiel raises his brows. “You're right, I skipped a few steps. Apologies.”

He rummages around in his coat pocket before finally finding what he has been looking for. He places a small, black and very distinctive box right in front of Dean, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Oh.

_Oh_!

Well, Dwight obviously was right about them sharing a special connection, but he seriously didn't notice how deep the whole thing was going. _Damn_.

Though a lot of things are making sense now. How they stayed close to each other the whole time, always fleetingly touching or quietly whispering. How they looked at each other for longer than platonically necessary, as if there were drowning in the other one's eyes.

Yeah, thinking about it now, it should have been way less astonishing.

Dean, in the meantime, stares at the ring box in utter shock, ignoring Dwight's probably quite stupefied expression altogether.

“You're … _proposing_?” he asks incredulously. “ _Here_?”

And Dwight has to agree on that one, it's honestly not the most romantic place in existence. However, Castiel doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who's fazed by trifles like that.

“And – and just _like that_?” Dean continues, shaking his head. “Throwing that box in my face and figuring that would be enough?”

Castiel studies him. “I thought you wouldn't appreciate me dropping on my knee and proposing to you in a great fashion, with flowers and candles and big love confessions. Was I wrong?”

A flush creeps up Dean's neck. “Um, no,” he mumbles, specifically avoiding Dwight's eyes. “I don't want that.”

“See?” Castiel states as if he just won some kind of argument.

Dean scoffs. “That doesn't mean …” He grits his teeth. “This is a freaking bar, Cas! There are very questionable stains on every surface here.”

Castiel narrows his eyes like he's trying to comprehend Dean's reaction. “Sam suggested I should propose in a bar.”

Dean seems speechless for a second, probably evaluating the words he just heard, before eventually sighing deeply. “I'm pretty sure Sam was just joking, Cas.”

Castiel doesn't seem happy about that revelation. The corners of his mouth drop and a light pink starts to tinge his cheek while he lowers his gaze. “Oh, I see,” he answers in a quiet voice. “Sorry for misunderstanding and making you uncomfortable.”

He's about to grab the ring box and take it, when Dean catches his wrist and keeps him from doing so.

“Don't you dare!” he exclaims. “You can't take it back!”

Castiel wrinkles his forehead and glances at the hand clasping his arm. “I don't understand. You just said it's all wrong.”

Dean snorts. “It's still _my_ proposal, dammit!”

“Technically I didn't even ask you yet …”

Dean waves him off. “Doesn't matter. It's on the table now – quite literally – and you can't just put it back in your pocket and pretend it never happened. I won't allow it.”

Castiel heaves a deep breath. “What do you want me to do then?”

Dean's face suddenly turns soft in a way Dwight never expected. Just an hour ago he watched this guy kill a freaking monster with no effort whatsoever, spilling its blood all over the place, and now he looks like a man who likes to cuddle kittens all day.

It's a very fascinating transition and Dwight is unable to avert his gaze, intruding on a intimate moment be damned.

Thankfully Dean doesn't even seem to recall his presence when he whispers, “Yes!”

Castiel tilts his head and waits for more to come. “That's not an answer to my question, Dean!”

“Oh, love, it sure as hell is,” Dean contradicts, grinning from ear to ear. He looks so happy and alive all of a sudden, already scooting his chair closer to Castiel, not once letting go of the man's wrist.

And Castiel, bless his obviously quite innocent heart, takes a while to wrap his head around Dean's words. But finally he realizes, “Oh, you're saying yes to my proposal, aren't you?”

Dean rolls his eyes in fond exasperation. “Yes, idiot. I'm saying yes to marrying you.”

Castiel's lips begin to twitch. “Well … great then.”

Dean laughs breathily, his smile so radiating Dwight almost feels blinded by it, and then he leans in without much preamble, capturing Castiel's lips in a kiss that's most likely a bit too bold for a skeevy place like this. But Dean doesn't give a damn because he's a _fucking Winchester_ and if stuff like facing Lucifer himself didn't scare him to death, nothing ever will.

“So yeah,” Dean eventually says to Dwight after he finally found the strength to detach himself from Castiel at least a little bit, “like Cas said, I won't go for that chick over there because I'm already engaged.”

He announces the last words rather proudly before planting another kiss onto Castiel's lips, apparently unable to stay away for long.

Dwight merely chuckles and raises his bottle. He can't wait to tell his hunter buddies that he'd been present for this historical moment.

“Well, it seems like we have more to celebrate than I originally thought.”

  
  


 


	5. Catherine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catherine can't believe her luck when two men show up at her estate agency, ready to buy one of her houses.
> 
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely support so far, you guys are seriously amazing <33 Your comments and nice words are all the motivitation I need!!
> 
> _

Good personnel is obviously hard to find.

Catherine actually told her assistant to keep her afternoon free, so she could meet up with her newest affair and have some fun between the sheets before his godforsaken long shift at the hospital would start and she wouldn't be able to see him for a few days, but somehow Lester didn't get the urgency of her demand because he storms into her office right after she shut down her computer and announces, “There are some new clients.”

Catherine doesn't hold back a threatening growl. “What did I say this morning?”

“But –”

Catherine sighs. Lester is fresh out of college and apparently way too enthusiastic about working for a real estate agency for the first time.

“I've got an _important_ appointment,” she presses through gritted teeth, emphasizing her words. No one keeps her away from mind-blowing marathon sex!

“But, Mrs. Denver –” Lester leans a bit closer, like he's about to share a crucial state secret. “Those gentlemen outside, they are _very_ interested in the Harper house.”

Catherine pauses, staring at her assistant with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

Lester nods. “Yes!” he confirms. “They seem to be quite excited about that.”

Catherine can't really believe it. She's been sitting on that house for _years_ now. It'd been rather beautiful once upon a time, but time and neglect turned it into a dump. Catherine tried to renovate it to make it more attractive for potential buyers, but she quickly realized that no one wants to own a deserted house in the middle of nowhere, just surrounded by woods, the lack of decent roads and nothing else (apart from an abandoned military bunker nearby no one seems to know anything about).

So yes, that stupid thing had been the reason of much frustration in the past. And to think that someone honestly considers relieving her of that …

“I figured you would want to speak with these gentlemen as soon as possible,” Lester continues. “But of course I could ask them to come back another time –”

“No!” Catherine immediately interrupts. She can't risk them leaving and never returning. “Send them in. My appointment can wait.”

She sends Jack a quick text, promising to make it up for him in a very spectacular way that would make him unfit for work, before plastering her toothy smile on her lips, welcoming the two men entering the office.

On first sight they're quite an odd pair. The one with the blue eyes and messy hair looks like an accountant while the other one seems like the lumberjack type somehow. But they're not the weirdest couple she ever had to deal with and hey, if they would seriously buy that stupid house they could have shown up in red spandex and Catherine wouldn't have been bothered by it.

“Hello,” the plaid fan says, grinning. “Sorry for barging in like that unannounced.”

He doesn't seem apologetic at all, but Catherine honestly doesn't care.

“No, please, don't worry,” she hurries to assure. “It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Catherine Denver.”

“Dean Winchester,” he introduces himself. “And that's my husband Castiel.”

He sounds quite casual about it, however, Catherine doesn't miss the softness in his voice at the term 'husband'. He's probably not used to the word yet.

“My assistant told me you're interested in the old Harper house?” she asks, casting a look at Lester who is standing in the background, ready to do Catherine's bidding, by the looks of it.

“Oh yes, we are,” Dean agrees wholeheartedly, sitting down on one of her comfy seats and stretching his legs like he's making himself at home.. “We just walked past it and saw your pretty face and your info on a flyer and figured to pay you a visit.”

Catherine honestly has no clue how they managed to find this house so far away from everything else just by coincidence, but she won't question it.

“The house is perfect,” Castiel jumps in, the corners of his mouth curling up. “Dean and I are contemplating for a time now to find our own home. But I know he wouldn't have been happy to put too much distance between ourselves and his brother Sam. And I wouldn't have been either.”

Dean looks at him with a warm expression on his face, as if those words are the most romantic thing he ever heard.

“This house … it's close to Sam,” Castiel says. “We would basically be neighbors.”

Catherine can't really grasp that because there is _seriously_ nothing there beside trees and that bunker, but once again she keeps her mouth shut. If those guys are so freaking happy with the location of that hell house, she won't rain on their parade.

Instead she says, “That sounds wonderful.”

Because it is. _Exceptionally_ wonderful.

“I mean, we haven't seen the inside of the house yet,” Dean cuts in. “I can imagine it's probably in a bad condition, considering the exterior and the fact that probably nobody lived in that thing for eternities, am I right?”

Catherine is reluctant to nod, but since Dean doesn't sound put out by it she eventually agrees.

“Well, I love to work with my hands, to be honest,” Dean says, seemingly quite happy to face such a challenge. “Renovate the whole place. Make it … _ours_.”

It's obvious that he likes that thought very much.

“And I just quit my job, so I've got a lot of free time on my hand.” He halts, tilting his head and corrects himself after a second, “Well, not _quit_ -quit. It's more like we changed departments. No field work, only a desk job. Way better to plan your time.”

By the sound of it he made some very big changes in his life and is about to add some new ones as well. Catherine can't help returning his boyish smile.

“Well, the Harper house will be indeed quite beautiful again when you put some effort into it,” she says. “It's peaceful and quiet out there, with a lot of space inside and outside, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a spacious garage –”

While she continues to list all the advantages, Castiel interlaces his fingers with Dean's, squeezing them tightly and making the man beam in the process like a lovesick teenager.

Lester in the background is obviously unable to suppress a deep sigh at the display of affection right in front of him.

“Lots of space sounds great,” Dean says. “So Sammy can get his own room and sleep over when he gets sick of the bun– … uh, his place.”

“Or we can use them as nurseries someday,” Castiel proposes in the most casual way.

Dean blinks a few times, obviously not prepared to hear something like that, and stares at the man beside him for a second with huge eyes, probably wondering whether he didn't misunderstand his husband somehow. Castiel, however, just holds his gaze, apparently telling Dean everything he needs to know just with his eyes, and Dean finds himself ducking his head to hide his stupidly wide grin and his flushed cheeks, muttering, “Um, yeah … or we could do that.”

Catherine feels her chest clench. Damn, they're _really_ adorable.

But instead of cooing right into their faces (like it would have been her first instinct), she turns her attention toward her assistant who looks like he's on the brink of bursting into tears. “Lester, get us some coffee and the proper paper work. I want to make sure that Mr. and Mr. Winchester will know all the details before I'll show them the property in all its glory.”

Dean and Castiel both smile back at her, their fingers still linked with each other and obviously more than ready to face their new future together.

 


	6. Cassie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie never really forgot about Dean Winchester.
> 
> _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry it took a bit longer this time, but this chapter is about three times longer than the previous ones, so I hope that will make up for it a bit ^^'
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Cassie never really forgot about Dean Winchester.

Seriously, how could she? It's not exactly common to get acquainted with a hunter who introduces you to the supernatural in the most unconventional way. Cassie's world view changed that day quite dramatically and she will never go back to the innocent girl she once was.

Sometimes she thinks that's quite a shame because once in a while she seriously just wants to watch the news or read an article about some weird occurrences without her mind inevitably reminding her that there are dangerous creatures in the shadows most people don't really know about. Every time she hears stories about strange deaths or suspicious animal attacks a shiver is running through her body, reminding her of the things she's been through.

But at the same time she can't help being grateful for the men and women out there who try to make this world a safer place by risking their lives.

So yeah, Cassie couldn't really forget about Dean, even if she would have wanted to.

Which she never did.

She tried to contact him from time to time, wondering whether he was okay. If he was still alive and well.

However, soon after they parted ways for the last time he obviously changed his cell phone number, so she couldn't exactly reach him anymore. Admittedly, he gave her the number of one Bobby Singer, telling her insistently that she should call the guy if she would ever need help, but at first she couldn't really bring herself to call a stranger to ask about Dean's general well-being. It took some time and some very disturbing news reports to finally take that step and she found herself eventually talking to a man with a gruff voice who assured her that, yes, Dean was fine and if he should rely a message to the hunter which Cassie instantly declined.

This conversation happened the exact same way several times after that until one day she was unable to reach Bobby's number as well and she had no freaking idea whether any one of them was still alive.

And she didn't know for many years.

Until on a bright summer morning the first rumors about a haunted house a few streets over first circulated around her neighborhood and it didn't take long for two 'experts' to show up. Hunters, big and burly and most likely witnesses of way too many horrible things, who didn't wait around to do their job, so that Cassie actually had to hurry to catch up with them before they left town again.

And thankfully, as soon as Cassie mentioned the name Winchester, their eyes lit up with recognition and after making sure that she wasn't any sort of demon or other supernatural being (a very wet experience, that's for sure), they pressed a phone number into her hands, talking about hunter networks and secrets lairs before saying goodbye.

And so she's sitting in her bedroom now, phone in one hand and the number in the other, hesitating because she hasn't got the foggiest idea what to expect.

Eventually she just thinks _screw it!_ and goes for it.

“Yes, hello?” a deep voice greets after the third ring.

Cassie swallows. She can't exactly place the voice, but the connection isn't the best and she hadn't spoken to Dean in over a decade, so everything is possible.

“Dean?” she asks, hopefully.

“No, this is Castiel,” the man contradicts. “Dean is in the kitchen right now.”

Cassie takes a deep breath. Damn, it feels like there's been a massive weight lifted from her shoulders. “So he's alive?”

Castiel is silent for a moment. “Yes, he is,” he agrees finally. “Did you hear otherwise?”

“No, it's just …” Cassie licks her lips. “I haven't talked to him in a really long while and … I just wasn't sure if he'd be –”

“I see,” Castiel agrees, a sudden softness in his tone. “His former profession was indeed quite unhealthy. It's fair to assume the worst.”

Cassie raises her brows. “His _former_ profession? He isn't a hunter anymore?”

Castiel is quiet once again before asking, “I'm sorry, but who are you?”

Cassie blinks a few times, realizing that she obviously forgot her manners somewhere along the way. “Oh damn, I'm sorry,” she says. “I'm Cassie. Cassie Robinson. I don't know if Dean ever mentioned me – probably not –, but we met long ago and –”

“Of course,” Castiel interrupts and now there is a clear chuckle in his voice. “I know who you are.”

“You do?” Cassie asks surprised. She can't imagine Dean talking about her enough that this man would know about her. It seems kinda surreal.

“Dean will be pleased to hear from you,” Castiel states, sounding cheerful. “Wait a moment, I'll get him.”

And then he's gone before Cassie can say anything else, leaving her blinking quickly and sort of overwhelmed because she's honestly got no idea what to feel right now. Unconsciously she probably expected things would turn out to be like it did with Bobby Singer in the past – a quick hello, a “Dean is fine” and that's it.

But obviously this Castiel does have some other plans.

Before she's able to make up her mind and figure out what to do or say, she hears two voices from the other end of the line.

“ – just ridiculous, Cas! Why aren't you telling me who's on the damned phone?”

“Answer it, Dean,” Castiel responds, his voice suddenly so warm that Cassie has a hard time believing that's the same guy. “You'll see.”

Dean sighs very melodramatically. “Fine. But don't forget about the meatloaf in the oven. It'll be your fucking fault if it combusts into flames because you're incapable of writing down a simple message and tell whoever there is on the phone that I'm gonna call them back!”

Cassie can almost see Castiel's following eye-roll. “Just do it! I'll watch the oven.”

Cassie can't help feeling a bit surprised by all of it. The whole scene sounds so freaking domestic, like an everyday occurrence – most definitely not something she would ever have associated with Dean Winchester.

“Yes, who is this?” Dean suddenly grunts and Cassie takes a moment to realize he picked up the phone and is talking to her now. She freezes for a split second, surprised by how different his voice sounds like now.

“Um … hi, Dean,” she eventually manages. Granted, not her best performance, but it's the least embarrassing she can come up with. “It's Cassie.”

There is silence for a while and Cassie finds herself wondering whether Dean even remembers her, after everything he's been through, and she's about to add her surname for clarification when at last a breathy laugh interrupts the silence.

“Damn, _seriously_?” Dean asks, seemingly quite glad to hear her voice. “I can't believe it! How long has it been?”

Cassie's lips curl upwards. “Way over ten years.”

Dean makes an confirmative noise. “Yeah, sounds about right.” There is a shuffling noise. “That's just so – _wow_. How … what –”

He doesn't seem to know what to ask first and Cassie can't exactly blame him, she must have caught him off guard rather spectacularly. It's honestly not everyday your ex from a decade ago decides to call you out of the blue.

“I'm really glad you're okay,” she say in a low tone, taking a deep breath. “After all this time – well, I wasn't sure if you're still, you know –”

“Alive?” Dean chuckles, though it sounds kind of awkward. “Yeah, it's been a close call a few times. Not exactly pretty. And other times, well …” He clears his throat. “It's hard to explain.”

“But you're okay now, right?” Cassie can't help asking.

“I'm more than okay,” Dean responds, his smile almost audible over the phone. “I've still got ten fingers and ten toes, that's quite a big deal for a hunter. Though I almost lost one of my fingers recently during some discount event at the grocery store I had no clue of beforehand. It was _horrible_.”

Cassie finds herself feeling a bit alienated by this since she honestly never thought she'd hear Dean say something like this _ever_.

He obviously changed quite a lot.

At least he became quite talkative, so it seems. He's never been the quiet guy, of course, but about the only topics he'd been fairly passionate and enthusiastic about had been movies and cars (and sex, though he rather liked to do it than talk about it) back then. Now, however, he keeps on rambling about his adventures at the supermarket as though they're the most exciting things that ever happened to him.

It's honestly downright adorable.

And before she knows it Cassie finds herself in a passionate discussion about grocery shopping and the difficulty of finding a good parking spot.

Life can be really weird sometimes.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


It's like no time at all went by when Cassie opens her door about two weeks later and finds herself face to face with the one and only Dean Winchester.

“Damn, you look even better than before,” she blurts right out because her brain-to-mouth-filter obviously stopped working somewhere along the way. She considers blushing since it would have been an appropriate response, but settles on smirking instead when she witnesses Dean's answering grin.

“Well, what can I say?” he laughs. “I'm still a handsome devil.”

Before Cassie's got even time to adjust Dean wraps his strong arms around her, squeezes her so tightly she almost fears to suffocate for a second, and whispers, “It's good to see you,” right into her ear.

He got bigger, bulkier, as Cassie notices instantly. And he smells differently somehow. She can't exactly pinpoint what changed (too much time has passed for that), but she just knows that it's not the same anymore.

“It's good to see you, too,” she says right back, shutting her eyes for a second and just let herself _feel_.

She hadn't even entirely realized how anxious she had been since the time her contact with Dean (or, more precisely, Bobby) broke off and she suddenly got no way of knowing whether the guy who charmed her with his lopsided smile and some lame _Star Wars_ jokes all those years ago was actually still alive.

Breathing.

Whole.

It seems kind of surreal to have actual assurance now.

Dean had been kinda adamant to visit her. Obviously he had some business to attend to nearby – a couple of hunters apparently found some supernatural artifacts and hadn't been comfortable with handling them on their own – and immediately suggested that he could stop by afterwards. Cassie first refused since Deans definition of 'in the neighborhood' meant one state and a twelve-hour-drive over, but Dean still seemed to be the stubborn jackass from before, not at all inclined to listen to Cassie's logic and wisdom.

And granted, seeing him now, in the flesh, his smile so bright, Cassie can't really bring herself to be mad with him.

Though she won't dare to say that out loud.

She drags him into her house and finds herself talking ten miles a minute. Their first phone call and the few that followed had been rather brief and the opposite of informative. Cassie immediately sensed that Dean's mind had been occupied with a lot of things at the same time, so she kept herself from prying too much. They shared some basic grounds – Cassie told her about her husband Mike and their six-year-old son Wesley and in return Dean talked about Sam and the fact that he instantly got himself four dogs as soon as Dean moved out into his own place (Dean actually couldn't stop complaining about those mutts in a way that makes it absolutely crystal clear that he not so secretly loves every single one of them) –, but they didn't get that deep yet.

So Cassie takes her chance, leading him through the rooms, showing him pictures of her family and tries to catch up the decade they had lost. Dean listens very patiently, nods at the right places and smiles easily at her. He looks warm and soft that way, like he's genuinely happy that Cassie found her own personal space in the world.

And at some point, when they settle in the living room, Cassie ends her stream of words, blushing a bit for taking up so much time with her tales about her boring normal life. But Dean just waves her off, reassuring her like a freaking gentleman that it was a delight listening to her stories before taking over the wheel himself.

His eyes are bright and full of pride and love when he tells her about Sam, his research work and the night classes he recently decided to pick up ( _“because he's a nerdy nerd who loves nothing more than sticking his nose inside a book”_ ), about someone called Cas, most likely that guy Castiel with whom Cassie talked on the phone briefly, and the fact that he's a grumpy little shit in the morning, about some military bunker they inherited by their grandfather and that became some kind of stable home for them after living so long on the road, and eventually about a house not that far from the bunker which Dean bought some months ago.

“It's been a freaking dump,” Dean explains. “Like, _seriously_. It took about a week to get rid of all the woodland creatures making themselves home in that place. I met animals I didn't even _know_.”

Cassie chuckles. “Sounds like an adventure.”

And definitely the good kind, not the _let's-kill-some-monsters_ adventure.

“Well, it's gonna stay that way for a while,” Dean says, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just started with fixing the kitchen. Cas insists on making it spacious and bright and big, as if he's actually the one cooking there instead of me. I think he tends to forget that he's prone for burning water.”

Cassie can't help hesitating a bit. It sounds an awful lot like Castiel has some very strong opinion concerning the house.

Is he about to move in as well?

Admittedly, Cassie wouldn't have been totally surprised. Dean speaks about the guy in a voice so fond it indicates a very strong connection. Somewhere along the way Castiel obviously became a quite vital part in Dean's and also Sam's life and Cassie finds herself glad that they were able to add more people to their little family. They deserve it.

And so Cassie states, “I'd love to meet Cas someday.”

Dean's face instantly lights up. “I guess that could be arranged.”

He digs his phone out from the depths of his pocket, presses a few buttons and eventually shows Cassie a picture of a guy with messy hair and the most incredible blue eyes squinting into the camera.

“That's him,” Dean announces and suddenly there are so many emotions in his voice, it's really hard to distinguish them somehow. “I actually tried to convince him to come with me as well, but he thought he'd be in the way of our reunion and didn't want to disturb us. Though I told him several times that you would most definitely love to meet him!”

Cassie nods along and smiles at him. However, she can't shake the feeling that she is missing something here.

Something big.

But before she's able to nudge and ask some cautious questions, Dean continues his ramble. “And that's Chester, by the way,” he says, pointing at a small puppy with black fur sitting on Castiel's lap. “Right after Sam got his army of annoying dogs Cas started to hint that he'd like one, too. He read all those guidebooks about parenting and claimed that couples should attempt raising a puppy first before going for kids. Total bullshit, I could tell you right from the start – apart from the whining and the pooping human children are far more complicated –, but Cas wouldn't budge and _dammit_ , I can't say not to those eyes! How can _anyone_?”

He actually sounds a bit helpless there, as if he's in serious need of an answer.

Cassie, though, is way to busy to realize that she _indeed_ missed something very important!

_Wow_!

She expected a lot of things, but not _this_.

Her eyes flicker to Dean's hand on pure reflex and _yep_ , there it is: A ring! An undeniable _I'm-a-married-guy_ ring!

How did she not see this before?

Dean, however, doesn't seem to notice her inner turmoil. “Chester isn't so bad though.” He's obviously trying for casual, but missing by a mile. “At least he poops less than Sammy back in the days, so that's definitely a plus. And a quick learner, too. Cas even wants to teach him how to turn on the coffee maker in the morning.” Dean chuckles. “It'll probably end in disaster, but it's gonna be entertaining to watch.”

He looks at the picture again and the love in his gaze is suddenly so freaking clear that Cassie wonders how she could have been that blind and deaf and _dumb_.

For a whole minute she simply gapes at Dean, not sure what to say.

“You're married!” she eventually blurts out because she's awkward and way too shocked to care.

But _dammit_ , she honestly needs some credit for this. She didn't anticipate Dean to be in a happy and solid relationship with homes and dogs and future children.

And she didn't expect _a husband_ of all things!

Admittedly, when she met Dean over a decade ago, he'd been hiding behind a fake smile and a cocky attitude, always eager to _never ever_ appear vulnerable and emotional. Several times she tried to make him open up a little bit – and failed every time to break down or at least crack the huge wall he built around his heart.

It seemed like an impossible task.

So, sadly, in the end, she had no actual idea who the real Dean Winchester even was.

_Hell_ , probably Dean himself hadn't had the foggiest either.

But that obviously changed _a lot_ since then. And Cassie can't help wondering how big Castiel's impact had been on that one.

He most definitely deserves a fucking medal, that's for sure.

Dean, in the meantime, started to eye her with confusion that turns rather quickly into a sheepish expression. “Ah shit, I totally forgot to tell you I'm married, right?” He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I'm really sorry. I'm so used to people knowing or at least assuming as soon as they see us together …”

Cassie can't exactly blame them. Dean even looks at a simple picture like a lost idiot so deeply in love there's no way back. She can't even imagine how it'd be with them _in the same room_.

It'll probably be the grossest thing she ever witnessed and she feels envious already.

“He knows about me,” she finds herself stating after a moment.

Dean blinks a few times. “Uh, what?”

“Castiel,” she points out. “When I talked with him on the phone briefly. He knew _exactly_ who I was as soon as I said my name.”

There had been not even a split second of hesitation. Just recognition.

Dean just shrugs. “Sure. He knows everything about me.”

_And he still loves me anyway_ , is left unsaid.

Cassie's chest clenches uncomfortably at those words. She remembers the day when he told her the truth about his life, about his job. How keen he had been to share this with Cassie, to have no secrets between them.

And she thanked him by throwing him out.

But Castiel … he knows everything, most likely even the very dark episodes. The pain and the blood and the monsters. And instead of running away he stayed. At Dean's side.

To make a home and build a family.

To love him unconditionally.

Cassie feels some traitorous tears prickling behind her eyes. If there is one person on the planet who deserves this kind of devotion more than anyone, it's Dean.

Because he gave so much and received so little in return.

“Damn, now I _really_ want to meet him.”

Dean laughs, his eyes glinting. “I'm gonna drag him over here next time, how about that?”

His smile is easy and carefree as he once again glances at the picture in his hands, perhaps already imagining how this meeting will turn out. He rubs his thumb over the display, as if he's caressing Castiel's cheek, and the deep affection in his gaze is so prominent Cassie feels almost blinded by it.

She never thought she would ever see such an expression on Dean's face.

It seriously suits him.

“Tell me everything!” Cassie demands, nudging his shoulder excitedly. “How you met, how you fell in love …”

Dean's whole posture softens even more. “That's one hell of a long story, Cassie.”

She grins. “Then let's hear it.”

And so Dean does.

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


It's a stunning tale about Heaven and Hell, angels and demons.

Friendship and trust and sacrifice.

Heartbreak and hope.

About a profound bond so strong not even the joined forces of the most powerful supernatural beings were able to destroy it.

A tale about two people finding each other despite the odds being against them over and over again.

And Cassie feels a bit like she's listening to the greatest love story every told.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been an awesome ride :D
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with my little stories and making me smile with your lovely comments/kudos, you rock!!

**Author's Note:**

> For more Destiel and SPN you can visit my [tumblr](http://all-i-need-is-destiel.tumblr.com) ^^


End file.
